


Familiar Faces

by Hadican



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Adventure, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hidden Pasts, Multi, Other, Past Relationship(s), They/Them Apprentice
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-30
Updated: 2019-09-10
Packaged: 2019-12-26 22:38:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18291650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hadican/pseuds/Hadican
Summary: Post Canon. M discovers their familiar while picking herbs one day and unearths a whole slew of other problems along the way.“I’ll make you remember,” the man said, gripping M’s shoulders and drawing them closer. Amber eyes blazed like an uninhibited fire and the magician was finding it hard to breathe. “You cannot run away from this. Not anymore.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story has been sitting on my computer, unfinished, for a while. Well, since the final chapters were released I thought I would start posting this post canon story now. Those endings though. I'm still trying to get the reversed endings, but, well, it's surprisingly difficult.

It was a beautiful day, M had to admit. Even though it was a little hot out today, there was a gentle breeze that soothed the uncomfortable air and made it bearable. Taking their knife they cut loose some lemongrass and laid it gently within the pouch they had brought with them. 

Asra was further down the field, closer to the tree line, hunting for some burdock root. Faust lay on a rock that was nestled a few feet away soaking up some sunlight and dozing contentedly. 

Focused on their task they did not notice when a shadow loomed over the top of them. 

A connection suddenly formed in their heart, and startled the magician to the point Asra looked up from his task as well. 

Standing over the top of them was a stallion. Golden coated and white maned with deep, dark eyes which held an intelligent air to them and a glint that suggested mischief. 

The connection grew stronger as they locked eyes and the stallion whinnied softly at M. 

M stood slowly, so as not to spook the horse and moved to get from underneath his chin. 

Once they put a couple steps of distance between them they spoke to Asra, who had started walking toward the two. 

“Aren’t, um, aren’t familiars supposed to be,” they stuttered, cutting off as the palomino stallion leaned forward and nibbled their dark hair curiously. They pushed against him, but to no avail. Their hair was his, and it appeared as if he would not stop until every last strand was coated in horse slobber. They ducked their head to look at Asra who had closed the distance, Faust now wrapped loosely around his shoulders. “I don’t know...smaller?”

“Hm, not necessarily,” Asra said, smiling as M gave him a dark look. “Muriel has Inanna, so-”

“Still smaller than a horse,” they muttered, wincing when the steed got a mouthful of hair and gave it a tug. They pushed against him once more and only earned a snort for their efforts, “Isn’t he supposed to like me?” 

Asra chuckled, “I think he likes you.”

They gave him a withering look which he easily brushed off. 

“Well?” Asra said, smiling at M. 

“Well, what?” They replied a little confused. 

“Any names jump to mind?” 

They blew out a breath and gave it a thought. A name did come to mind. 

“Methuselah,” they said, stroking his neck and earning their freedom when he released their hair from between his teeth. Asra looked surprised by the name, and they cocked a brow at him. “Is it that bad? I thought it made him sound, I dunno, well seasoned? Distinguished?” 

“I think it’s a fine name,” he said. He walked around the horse and M, hand on chin, mindful not to spook the horse. A thoughtful look crossed his face before he turned toward M, hands dropping to his sides. “But I’m curious as to where we’ll put him.” 

A bit of humor bubbled up in their chest as they thought about where, in their tiny shop, they could fit a full grown horse. 

“Come now, there’s plenty of room at the shop! I think I saw some spare room in one of the cupboards,” they said cheekily, though they quickly grew more serious moments later. “There is a stable just outside of Vesuvia that boards other people’s horses, or I suppose I could ask Nadia, but I don’t want to just throw a new horse at her. Especially considering he’s my familiar.” 

Absentmindedly they ran their fingers through Methuselah’s light mane. 

“What do you think Thusy?” they murmured. “Think you can be on your best behavior for the Countess?”

He snorted and their lips quirked up. 

“Ah, thought not,” M said. “Not into the dignified lifestyle, eh?”

In the weeks to come M managed to procure a saddle and bridle for their new steed. Methuselah was rather picky, however, and the apprentice was sorely tempted to rename him Drama Queen, much to the golden horse’s chagrin. 

At the moment they rested under a tree, Methuselah was laying behind his master, the duo dozing off. A book rested in M’s lap, their fingers slack on the pages. The book was on familiars, but they found it rather dry with technical jargon. Apparently Methuselah did as well. 

He had snorted at the contents and moved to nibble on some grass earlier before laying down to rest. 

Faust found them lying beneath that tree dozing thirty minutes later. Asra not too far behind his own familiar. 

“Oh, there they are,” Asra kept his voice low, mindful of the sleeping duo. M’s brows twitched nevertheless and the apprentice opened their eyes blearily, noticing Asra and Faust.

“Hn, I fell asleep?” they muttered, rubbing the sleep from their eyes. 

“Yes, and it was adorable,” Asra said, reaching out a hand. The apprentice took it and was helped up and onto their feet. The tome fell to the ground, and they jolted, their knees going lax for a moment. Asra caught them, and a solid form was suddenly at their back. They didn’t even have to look back to know Methuselah had stood to keep them from falling as well. 

“Ah, my legs fell asleep too,” they noted sheepishly as they moved to try and rub the feeling back into them. “Nice catch, you two.” 

They suddenly felt a wiggling on their arm, and noticed that Faust had wrapped herself around their arm, linking M’s and Asra’s arms, in attempts to keep the dark-haired magician from falling. 

“Oh, my mistake, you three,” they said, giving Faust an affectionate scratch under the chin before she returned to the folds of Asra’s clothing. 

A raindrop suddenly splashed on their nose which drew their attention to the sky. The ran began to fall more as the moments passed. 

They bent over to retrieve the heavy tome and placed it back into the saddle bag on Methuselah's side. 

Stepping up and into the stirrup they swung their leg over and sat in the saddle easily. Their lessons from Nadia’s horse trainer were going swimmingly and the two had grown closer. They would have to do something not only to thank the horse trainer but Nadia as well. 

The apprentice reached out for Asra, and the other magician grabbed on, Faust now coiled loosely around his shoulders. 

Asra’s arms wound around them, and his chin rested on their shoulder. 

“Hm, I think I like this,” he noted, kissing their shoulder where the sleeve had slipped down when M had mounted their horse. 

“Keep that up and you’ll walk,” M shot back with a smirk. At that prospect the dark haired suddenly found Faust on their own shoulders and laughed at the betrayed look on Asra’s face. 

M scratched beneath the white snake’s chin, earning a delighted wriggle from the serpent. 

“Smart girl,” they praised.

With a soft noise from M the stallion took off. 

They arrived back at the shop just as it started to pour. 

“I’ll only be out for a bit,” they assured, and gave Asra a lopsided smile to ease the other magician’s worries. Faust had returned to Asra, her tongue flickering out, seemed she wasn’t convinced either. “C’mon love, I can’t leave Methuselah in the rain in the middle of the city. I need to return him to the stables.” 

“Take Faust with you, please,” the sneaky familiar was already sliding back from Asra’s sleeve and into the apprentice’s own clothing eagerly. The white snake wrapped loosely around their shoulders, like a scaly scarf. Their hand went up to trace Faust’s smooth scales and the snake nosed her way closer to the hand in delight. Still being babied it seemed, but it came from a good place so they let it slide. “If anything happens, anything at all, send for me.”

“I’m adventurous, not stupid, love,” they said cheekily, but winced nonetheless when they remembered how they went traipsing through the abandoned wing of the palace. If they had known Lucio was dwelling inside, they would not have been so careless. Especially knowing what they did now about his dealings with the Devil. Thankfully everything was well now, and their world was safe. 

Of course, not without almost losing everything. They were just glad they had managed to ruin the ritual and seal the Devil away. 

They dismounted from Methuselah and drew the other magician in for a kiss. Asra returned it, his arms wrapping around M’s waist and drawing the dark haired magician closer. Pulling away for air they smiled up at him, their hand coming up to trace his jaw line with the backs of their knuckle in a tender gesture. 

“Hey, I’ll be alright. Just going to drop Methuselah off and come back, weather permitting. And I’ll have Faust.” 

They pecked him on the cheek and smiled softly as he turned to place his own lips lightly on theirs for a quick kiss of his own.

“See you soon,” and with that they were back in the saddle, hood up, and headed for the stables as a peal of thunder rumbled across the sky.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am back! I hope you enjoy this chapter. Things are picking up a little more steam now.

Asra busied himself in the shop as he waited for M’s return. A crack of thunder had him looking out the window, brows furrowed in concern. 

There were other reasons he waited for the other magician’s return worriedly, not just the weather. His mind wandered back to earlier this morning before M had left to take Methuselah out for a run and he had found them under that tree in the field. 

_The morning had started lazy and warm. Asra had been woken up by a kiss on his cheek. Things escalated from there. M panted and moaned softly as his lips found their shoulder and alternated between sucking and biting._

_His hand slipped over their side and they tensed, their hands flying to his shoulders and stayed perched there. Their fingers were light on his shoulders, but they trembled._

__

_“M?” Asra murmured, and watched while they closed their eyes and took in a deep breath._

__

_“Sorry, it’s that spot again,” they said, smiling sheepishly. The spot that had showed up after the two of them had defeated the Devil. It looked like what someone might tattoo on themselves, a swirling pattern with no distinction, but M had not tattooed anything on their new body. A fresh start they had told him._

__

_Asra looked down at the spot that seemed to grow each time he saw it. It was disturbing...He had no idea how to get rid of it. M insisted the mark did not hurt, just startled them with a tingling sensation when in close proximity to magic. That statement brought color to the white-haired magician’s cheeks as magic tended to roll off of him when he got excited._

__

_Nevertheless, Asra believed them, but he was still worried._

__

_It should not have been the work of the Devil. He was sealed away and unable to do anything of the sort. Even if he had cursed M, whatever he would have done would have faded by now due to lack of magic feeding it._

__

_He looked down at the pattern and frowned._

__

_“You’re sure it doesn’t hurt?” he asked, leaning down to leave a trail of kisses from their cheek to their lips._

__

_“Mm, yes,” they murmured against his lips before drawing back to speak proper. “Just tingles and startles me more than anything.”_

__

__

_“Alright,” he relented and was swept into another kiss._

A crack of thunder drew Asra out of his thoughts and the white-haired magician frowned. 

Looking out the window he watched as the wind picked up. He stood. M could take care of their self. He knew that, but still…

What if the mark went from just tingling to hurting? What if it got so bad that M could not make it back to the shop? 

No. 

He was being ridiculous, over protective, even. 

He decided to check the shelves again before heading over to the fire salamander and requesting that it heat up the stove. After giving it the required fuel he set out to get some cups out. The one with the chip in it had always been M’s favorite. Memories, they had told him once before. Memories with their aunt. 

Memories that no longer existed…

The white-haired magician sat the cup down as if it were on fire and busied himself further by grabbing a kettle from the cabinets and set it to the side. 

M had told him that it was no big deal. That the dark haired magician and him could make new memories with each other and their friends. 

It was a nice thought.

But...

He had still taken their options away...forced them to live again and in the process destroyed who they had once been. 

M was the same in some regards, he admitted, but there were other things about them that had been lost for good.

Not that he loved them any less because of these changes. Indeed, he was ecstatic to have them back, but he would be a liar if he said everything was just as it had been.  
Jingle!

Asra perked up and glanced toward the front of the shop. There should not be anybody here, today was a day off and M would not have gotten back this quickly. 

Walking to the front he ran into Ilya who was fidgeting with his coat which was soaking wet from the rain. 

“Oh, um,” the doctor stutterd, eyes looking around for M more than likely. He and Ilya were still finding out what they were to each other, but their relationship had warmed these past couple of months. “M’s out?” 

M had reconnected with the doctor and had even gone back into learning the medicinal remedies they had attempted to use on plague victims. While not effective for that particular disease these other remedies worked well on different cases of infection and sickness. 

With no plague looming over them anymore Asra was more at ease with them helping Ilya out. Besides, he had learned a long time ago that once M set their mind on something, especially if it was to help others, they would not be swayed. 

Asra rubbed where the brand was invisible beneath his skin before forcing his mind back into the present. 

“Yes,” he said, walking back to the small kitchen and retrieving a third cup. “Would you like to wait and have some tea with us when they return?”

“Oh, um, if you wouldn’t mind…” he said, obviously feeling out of place. Asra frowned. The white-haired magician remembered the way he had mistreated Ilya in the months after M’s death. He had blamed him, in some ways, and he had been exceptionally cruel to the man. He had used Ilya...Abused him. The doctor has asked for it, begged for it, but that still did not make what Asra had done right. 

A gloved hand wiped his cheek and he startled which in turn startled the doctor. 

“U-uh, you, you’re crying...um why?” the taller man asked which earned a half sob, half laugh from Asra. 

“Just thinking,” he sniffed, wiping his eyes roughly with his arm and putting some distance between himself and the taller man. 

Ah, M was going to notice that he had been beating himself up about things he could no longer change. He had not really thought about things in the moment, but now that he had the peace and quiet again. With no Lucio or Devil to worry about...these thoughts could not help but rear their ugly heads. 

“I’m becoming like you, I think too much,” he joked lightly. 

Before the doctor could respond to his needling there was a tap on one of the shop’s windows. 

Asra felt his heart sinking as he saw Faust pressing her snout against the glass. 

There was no sign of M…

Quickly opening the window he draw his familiar to himself. She was soaked, but quickly dried as she ran her body around his shoulders loosely. 

_“Help!”_  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
The rain did not let up as M lead their stead through the streets of Vesuvia. Careful to lead him slowly over cobblestones too slick for horseshoes to find purchase on while running. 

They would be shivering by the time they returned home but they could dry off easily with a simple spell once they got into some shelter. Not to mention Asra would probably have some hot tea waiting for them by the time M returned home. 

“Sorry, Methuselah,” M said. “I’ll get you dried off and in a nice warm stable as soon as possible.”

The horse did not seem to mind the rain, and just continued on.

They felt Faust’s smooth scales on their side as she tucked herself into a fold of M’s clothing that was not drenched.  
“I’ll also make sure to put your favorite sweater on you when we get back, Faust.” 

_“Bunny?”_

They chuckled. 

“Yes, the one with the bunnies.” 

Once they had made it to the stables M handed off their familiar’s reins to the stable boy who whistled as he got his first good look at them. 

“We’ll get ‘im dried and fed, you gonna stay?” he asked. 

“Oh, don’t worry about drying him off, I’ll take care of that,” With a flick of their fingers Methuselah was dry and the stable boy gawked. Their own clothing was warm and felt freshly laundered. Faust nosed through the warm folds of fabric in delight. 

“You gotta teach me that some time,” he said, flashing a smile that was missing an upper tooth. 

“Sure,” they said, smiling softly. “But, uh, I’ve got to get back home.” 

“Next time, then,” he chortled, and lead Methusalah into one of the stables to get fed. M gave the proper amount of coin to the man at the front desk and turned to head back outside. 

With a deep breath they pulled their hood up and ran back towards their home.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
They were only a few streets away from home. The rain had drenched them once more, but there was a goofy grin on their face. 

They lived for days like these. Sure, they were cold and shivering, but they were alive. M could feel the rain and enjoy the damp air even the spasms of a shiver were a delight. 

They rounded a corner and decided to head down an alleyway. They were close enough to their shop and there were not too many ruffians like in other parts of Vesuvia. 

M had cut through these alleys dozens of times if not hundreds.  
There was someone in the alley. A cloak to undoubtedly protect them from the rain was covering their tall frame. The hood was pulled up which concealed the person’s face. 

M had thought nothing of it as they passed the person by and made their way back into the road until something stopped them.

A hand had encircled their wrist and that caused their heart to lurch up their throat uncomfortably.

They were suddenly tugged back toward the alleyway and their pulse quickened. The person was tall, and strong. He had hoisted their feet off the ground with minimal effort.

It vaguely reminded them of their first encounter with Julian, but this was becoming far scarier than their initial meeting with the doctor. Now they could never imagine the doctor intending to hurt them. 

Faust wound around their arm as they were slammed against one of the brick walls of the buildings in the alley.

“Kch!” they had almost bit their tongue and their breath was lost to them. The force very nearly rattled their bones.

The raven haired magician looked up at their assailant as they tried to draw in air into their shocked lungs. Something about this man was familiar, scarily familiar, but they could not put their finger on it. It made their head hurt just trying to place where they knew him from. 

Black hair tied back and amber eyes that burned like an un-tempered flame. Muriel had given them several, rather nasty looks at the beginning, but this was utter contempt, not just anger and distrust that burned in the stranger’s eyes. The clothing he had on beneath the cloak was a ruffled white top beneath a green vest and dark brown trousers with polished black boots. Everything was immaculate on him. Not a stitch or speck of dirt to be seen. 

Why on earth had he looked their way? 

Had they been mistaken for somebody el-

Faust lunged from their sleeve.

_“Stop!”_ Faust cried fangs extended.

The man adapted quickly. He released one of their wrists and reaching up to catch the snake just below the base of her head.

“No! Let her go!” they were pressed harder and let out a pained grunt in the process. Panic had magic dancing along their hands, and they very nearly released some of it at the man’s face when he did something unexpected.To their surprise, and utter relief he released her. Faust dropped like a stone but recovered quickly. Without another word she slithered out of the alleyway and back toward the shop. Back to Asra.

M’s head snapped back to the stranger when they felt him removing their clothes.  
Alarm shot through M, and they redoubled their efforts to get away. The magic in their hands crackled and they used that to knock the man backwards. 

Taking the opportunity they made a run for the street, pulling their loose garments up hazhapardly, but were cut short by a hand on the back of their robes. They fell to their hands and knees and were quickly knocked to the side by a well aimed kick, the force rolling them over and onto their back. Their breath was lost to them and they tried in vain to catch it. 

The man loomed over the top of them, and kneeled, cutting off their escape. His hand reached out and began pushing their robes to the side once more as the other hand enveloped their wrists in an iron like grip and held them above M’s head. 

They gritted their teeth and flinched as the cooled air of a rain drenched Vesuvia met the bare skin of their side.

Then, he stopped. There were no more attempts from the man to remove the rest of M’s clothing. Looking down they noticed he stopped at the mark on their side where their under shirt had been pushed up. 

It was a series of black marks. In the shape of something they could not quite place, but they had had it since defeating the Devil. Asra did not know of its origin, and they could tell it bothered the white-haired magician, especially when they had first mentioned them.

His eyes snapped up and their eyes met. A cruel smile worked its way across his face that made it hard to swallow.

“I’ve finally found you,” his face drew closer, too close. His nose brushed their cheek and his breath wafted against their face. _“Mattan.”_

And that had their heart nearly petering to a stop.

Nobody knew their name. Only Asra knew their true name. Others, like Julian and Nadia simply knew them as M, and though he knew, Asra rarely called them by it. That was reserved for private moments between them. Safe moments. Sometimes not even the shop was the place to utter their name.

They had been so adamant about their name being secret, but they never knew exactly why. Their memories were gone, and they were not ever coming back. Yet, now they wished to have them back more than ever. Their heart pounded and yet, despite having no memories they had thought he looked familiar. 

The hand around their mouth moved, but quickly enclosed around their throat. He squeezed cutting off their air effectively and lifted them up. He pressed them against the alleyway’s wall as spots began to dance in their vision. .

“M!” 

They were dropped to the ground unceremoniously. Too weak from oxygen deprivation they made no move to escape, but took lungful after painful lungful of air in greedily.

Their vision swam and dimmed around the edges the last thing they saw before losing consciousness entirely was Asra with Faust wrapped around his shoulders and Julian behind the two at the entrance.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am going to try and update this more often. We will see how that goes though!

Their eyes fluttered beneath their lids as the magician’s mind tried to figure out why that man had looked so familiar. 

 

Mattan’s mind searched through their now shortened span of time, but came up with nothing each time. 

 

The memory was gone, but still the mind tried to place that sense of familiarity somewhere within the void left behind.

 

Mattan broke out into a fever that drenched them in sweat and labored their breath as they slipped in and out of consciousness.

 

They wanted to stop trying, but the feeling persisted.

 

They knew him, but from where?

 

Where?

 

...where?

 

…

 

They gasped, eyes flying open, and somebody startled from next to them. 

 

Something clattered to their left which was followed by a string of what appeared to be curses from languages they scarcely recognized. 

 

They looked around, and realized they were at the palace. To their side was Doctor Devorak the man behind the colorful language. 

 

He blinked at them owlishly before clearing his throat and straightening to his full height. 

 

The poor man looked like he had not slept in days. 

 

“You’re awake, that is, uh, that’s great!”

 

“Why...why am I at the palace?” they asked, as a headache thrummed in the back of their head. 

 

Julian was quickly jotting something down on a piece of paper. 

 

_Shritch...shritch..._

 

“Patient knows where they are…” 

 

“Julian what is going on?” 

 

_Shritch...scritch..._

 

“Patient knows who I am…” 

 

“I-Ilya!” 

 

Mattan was not used to using his actual name and so they stumbled over the pronunciation a little. Nevertheless that  startled him out of his writing. Like a child whose parents had used their full name. 

 

“I, wha-oh! Oh! Right, you probably want to know what is going on.” He finished picking up the items that had fallen on the floor and sat them on a nearby shelf. 

 

They smiled shakily at him. The headache worsening, but not due to their inability to access lost memories…

 

“That would be nice…” 

 

“Well,” he began, running his gloved hand through his hair. “Look, a lot has happened since you lost consciousness four days a-” 

 

“Four days?!” 

 

They wanted to jump up and grab their mentor by the coat and shake him in distress. Not that any of this was his fault, but the realization that they had slept through four days worried them. What had happened after they had blacked out?

 

They tried to recall the memories but that only earned them a sharp pain in their head. 

 

Okay, they would stop trying to remember until they felt better, but that did not mean they could not get moving.

 

Yes, they would get up and-

 

The world swayed instead as they placed one foot shakily on the ground and tried to put weight on it. They fell limply back onto the bed as a wave of powerlessness washed over them.

 

“Take it easy,” Julian murmured, looking stricken as he helped them back into the bed. He arranged the pillows behind them so they could sit up without expending much energy. Once his task was complete he took a step back and rubbed his gloved hand over the back of his neck before meeting their eyes. “You, uh, you do not want to fall out of bed again…” 

 

“Again?” 

 

He looked away and sighed. 

 

“When we first got to the castle...well, after laying you on a bed, uh, I sort of started to remove your clothes so I could get a good look at that mark Asra told me about, you were clutching at it, but you, you freaked out.” 

 

They frowned at that, but Julian continued on. 

 

“Very nearly cracked your skull on the floor while you were at it, Pasha managed to catch you before you could hurt yourself.” 

 

They could only imagine what that scene looked like. They had never, to their limited knowledge, done something like that and it worried them. 

 

Clutching at their side in pain they did not remember, and trying to get away from Julian to the point of almost hurting themselves... That did not sound like them at all, but it was obvious they had not been truly conscious of their actions. After all, their last solid memory was of the alleyway. 

 

They were grateful Portia had been so quick to catch them before they could do any serious harm to themselves.

 

Glancing up at Julian they smiled softly. 

 

“I’ll have to thank her properly later...sounds like I gave you a lot of trouble, Doctor. I’m sorry…”  

 

Their smile was faltering. 

 

“Don’t apologize,” he said and looked over at the cabinets, unable to meet their eyes. “You, you have been through a lot, and that does not even include all the-” 

 

“Ilya, how is-M!” 

 

Both the doctor and Mattan looked toward the entrance to the room to see a disheveled Asra standing in the doorway. 

 

He too looked like he had not slept in days. His robes were skewed and his hair tousled more than usual.

 

They only got to take in his appearance for a second before the white-haired magician moved to cross the distance between them but stopped short. 

 

He looked stricken for a moment. His eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked them over. 

 

“Do you...do you know me?” the pain in his voice took their breath away, so much so that all they could manage to do was nod numbly. A few tears slipped down his cheeks as he finally wrapped them up in a hug. 

 

“I’m okay,” they murmured into his robes, clutching the back of his clothing tightly. They drew back slowly and wiped away his tears with the pads of their thumbs. “I’m right here…”

 

He leaned his forehead against theirs and let out a shaky breath.

 

“I don’t think I could have done it again…” he whispered hoarsely, and that simple utterance broke their heart. How many times had he started over with them in the beginning? Back when a misspoken word could send them back to square one...

 

They could not bear to hazard a guess. 

 

“You don’t have to,” they murmured softly, kissing him on the cheek. “And even if...even if you had to, you aren’t alone, Asra. There are others that will support you, Muriel, Nadia, Julian-” 

 

They looked over at Julian and smiled softly, before returning their attention to Asra. 

 

“And your parents.” 

 

“You’re right…” he whispered softly. “You’re right, I’m not alone, it’s not just you and me, we have people who will support the both of us.” 

 

“Exactly.” 

 

He brought his lips to theirs and kissed them deeply. It had only been four days, but it had felt like a lifetime since they had kissed him. Their heart fluttered in their chest and that was a feeling they would never grow tired of. 

 

The white-haired magician leaned back and smiled. 

 

M beamed right back. 

 

And then Asra fell across their lap startling them. Mattan blinked and realized that he was unconscious. 

 

“Asra?”

 

He remained asleep. 

 

“Finally,” Julian said, relieved. The doctor’s own reaction put their heat at ease. Affection blossomed in their chest along with a bittersweet feeling as they combed their fingers gently through his tousled pearl colored hair. 

 

He had looked so exhausted and at his wits end.

 

They needed to make it up to him somehow...

 

“I’ve been trying to get him to sleep this whole time,”  Julian lamented quietly. “But he refused and stayed by your side almost this whole time. His parents had just convinced him to come with them earlier this morning to tend to, uh, other matters.” 

 

“Other matters?” Mattan echoed softly. 

 

“Let me give you a check up and then I’ll catch you up to speed. It-well, it isn’t good, M,” Julian said softly. He looked guilty about something, but he always seemed to regardless of whether it was his fault. They would have to sic Portia on him later. 

 

They nodded numbly and waited patiently for Julian to give them the all clear on their health. Despite their headache they felt fine, and much better than they had felt in the moments leading up to when they lost consciousness.  

 

“Everything looks good from my end, but is there anything you want to tell me?”

 

“I’ve got a slight headache, but other than that I feel fine, Doctor,” Mattan said, smiling gently. Julian wrote that down on his paper before nodding to himself and clearing his throat. 

 

“Yes, well, I owe you an explanation,” he began before faltering. “You see, ah, well, we are currently trying to keep you from being transported to some country called Orittia at the moment.” 

 

“Orittia? Wait, why would I be transported there, or at all for that matter?” 

 

In their travels they had visited many places, but Orittia had not been one of them.” 

 

“Seems you are being put on trial there, but our...esteemed guest,” he said the last part with a surprisingly large amount of venom before continuing. “Has yet to elaborate on why.” 

 

“Trial?” they tried to think of something they could of done to warrant a trial, but with no memories of their past they came up with nothing. “I-I don’t remember ever doing anything to p-put me on trial for...but-but it is possible, right? I only have memories of the past three years, I-I-”

 

“Look at me, M,” they stopped speaking and looked up at the doctor. “This is going to sound, uh, hypocritical coming from me, but you are not going to do this, alright? You are not going to beat yourself up for something you may not have even done. Take it from me, it is not worth it. If Asra was awake right now he would say the same thing.”

 

They glanced down at Asra and smiled softly.

 

“R-Right,” they murmured, taking in a deep breath in an attempt to ground their self.

 

“Besides, you don’t even know what they want to put you on trial for, could be, well, something simple, like stealing a rare artifact,” he said, waving nonchalantly, as if stealing a rare artifact was a simple matter that did not involve high risk of jail or death dependent upon the importance of said object. 

 

At least the doctor was trying to comfort them. 

 

Though...that story sounded like something he had done before. Probably from one of his swashbuckling tales from when he was on the high seas. They would have to ask him about it later. 

 

There was a light tapping at the door and the two of them looked over to see Portia standing in the doorway. 

 

“Good to see you awake,” she said warmly, walking over to give them a hug which they returned gratefully. When they parted she addressed them both. “The Countess has been...entertaining our guest up until now, but he really wants to see M…” 

 

“After what he did? He nearly strangled them to death!” Julian sneered as he walked over to put away his medical supplies. Once that was accomplished, he shut them back into the cabinet with the rest of his supplies before turning to his sister. “Tell him that M’s doctor has no intention of letting him see them at the moment, and that if he would like to see them then he must do it once Asra is awake and in the presence of the both of us.” 

* * *

Julian’s stance was firm. After seeing the disheveled state they had been in, the bruises on their body left by that man, and their near violent reaction to being touched, the doctor was not about to let him anywhere near the magician right now. Nobility or not. 

 

The brown-haired man was sure that Nadia felt the same, but had simply sent Portia to inquire about M for diplomacy’s sake. 

 

His mind then traveled back to the magician’s current condition. 

 

M seemed sound of mind right now, but would they still be when they saw him again? Would they relive the trauma he had caused them only a short time ago?

 

It felt too risky. Especially after what Asra had tearfully told him regarding M’s resurrection and that they had only recently been able to come to grips with their own death while investigating Lucio and the Devil without losing everything again. 

 

It sounded awful, and it made Julian wish he could have been there for Asra and M during that time.

 

He decided then and there that he would be there for them now. The two of them were his friends after all, and M was now his apprentice once more... 

 

Clearing his throat and shaking his head to ward off those thoughts he looked toward Portia and addressed her. 

 

“I think that should buy us a little time, and give M a little more protection from that man,” he said as he glanced over at M. They were in deep thought, their dark brows knitted together as they looked at their lap. 

 

Portia seemed to go along with what he had said. 

 

With one last worried glance at M she made her way back to relay Julian’s message to the Countess and their “esteemed guest.”

 

Julian could only hope that, that would buy them a little more time.

 


End file.
